


An Ounce of Prevention, a Pound of Cure

by HeyMurphy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Body Worship, Bottom Hank, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Cum as Lube, Prostate Massage, Rimming, more tags incoming when I upload the second part later, that's the most important tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyMurphy/pseuds/HeyMurphy
Summary: Just straight-up porn cleverly disguised as something with a plot.Chapter One: An Ounce of Prevention - When Connor suggests Hank engage in more sexual activity for his health, Hank doesn't realize he'd meantwith him.Chapter Two: A Pound of Cure - Not one to be selfish, Hank wants to learn how to make Connor cum. (COMING SOON - will feature Ken Doll Connor and wireplay run amok)





	An Ounce of Prevention, a Pound of Cure

**Author's Note:**

> Please accept this before I edit it to death!!! Thank you!

Everything was totally fine until Connor opened his mouth.

Hank sipped on a mug of strong Irish coffee after his shower. He was already suitably buzzed from the beers at dinner, settled down in his usual sofa indent. It was just after nine o’clock. The television droned peacefully, playing some old film noir picture, or at least that’s what he guessed from the actors’ fedoras and overcoats. In any case, it was perfect to doze off to, and his eyes eventually began to drift shut.

“Lieutenant,” said Connor from beside him on the sofa. Hank jolted and put a hand to his heart.

“Jesus, I forgot you were there. You haven’t said anything in like an hour.”

“I apologize. I was organizing my databases, running a maintenance program, and exploring some recently-acquired information.” Connor’s LED pulsed a steady, slow yellow. He still wore his dark trousers and white dress shirt, though the tie had thankfully been discarded before dinner. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Shoot,” said Hank, and he filled his mouth with the last lukewarm gulp of his coffee. He was used to all sorts of personal questions at this point. They’d been living together almost three months.

“When was your last orgasm?”

The coffee came back up immediately. Hank choked, put down the mug, and pawed at the new damp stain in his sweatshirt. “Shit—what the—fucking _what_ did you just say to me?”

“When was your last orgasm?” Connor repeated, tilting his head. “And do you know the current condition of your prostate?”

Hank covered his ears. “Woah! I’m not talking about this with you!”

“Was this too personal of a question?”

“Yeah! So shut the fuck up!”

Maybe ten seconds passed. Hank had just enough time to wipe coffee from his beard and take a calming breath. This goddamn android.

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a great deal about your mortality, Lieutenant.”

“Holy shit. You’re giving me whiplash here.”

Connor thankfully stopped talking and stood from the sofa to hold out an expectant hand. Hank stared at it for a moment. Was he wanting a high five? Did he want Hank to stand up too? What was happening? He took a wild guess and tried to hand him the empty mug. “No, your sweatshirt, please,” said Connor, unfazed. “I should wash it before the coffee dries.”

“I can wash my own damn clothes.”

“Yes, but are you going to?”

Hank grumbled. “Smartass.” He pulled the hoodie up over his head, feeling the air hit the sweat under his chest and at the small of his back. For a hot second he had a weird pang of embarrassment about being shirtless, but he swallowed it down and handed Connor his sweatshirt.

This earned Hank two minutes alone to think. When Connor returned from the washing machine in the garage he sat right back down beside him, hands on his knees, spine straight. “Are you ready for me to finish my thought now?”

Hank pinched his eyes shut. “Y’know what, fine. Go on and get it over with.”

“Thank you.” Connor nodded. “Now, I’m not sure if you remember, but your DPD annual physical is coming up in two weeks.”

“Fuck.”

“That was my sentiment as well,” Connor continued, and Hank could’ve sworn he heard the bastard laugh as he said it. “It got me thinking about your overall health. Do you know what the CDC lists as the top cause of death for white males over the age of fifty, Lieutenant?”

He didn’t like this conversation. It had everything he dreaded: death, reminders of his body’s shitty condition, and the very real possibility of having to deal with a problem. “No, I don’t,” he said. “But I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me.”

Connor’s big brown eyes were suddenly very serious. “It’s cancer.”

“Ah. Yup, I guess that sounds about right.”

“And do you know which type of cancer your demographic is most at risk of developing?”

Hank connected the dots and groaned in irritation as he started to understand what Connor had been trying to get at. “Lemme guess. Prostate.”

“That’s right,” said Connor, inching excitedly closer to him on the couch cushion. “It’s been shown that regular sexual activity can help to keep the prostate healthy as you age. So I simply wanted to make sure that you were getting enough of it.”

“Sexual activity.”

“Yes.”

Hank threw himself back against the sofa and dragged hands down his face. “Connor, I’m fifty-three.”

“And?”

“And I’m fucking old, okay? Look, I’m not—I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you. Drinking’s gonna fuck up my liver long before any cancer gets me, so quit worrying about it.”

Connor was thoughtful for a moment and his LED spun in blue-yellow circles.

“And look,” said Hank, “next time you wanna talk to me about something like this, maybe use some tact? Instead of jumping straight to asking me about when I last jerked off? Jesus Christ.” Using Connor’s shoulder as leverage, he hauled himself to his feet and shambled off to bed. “G’night, ya weirdo.”

 

* * *

 

Hank closed the bedroom door behind himself and let go of a shaking breath.

_“When was your last orgasm?”_

His fingers fumbled with the fly of his jeans. He played the words over and over, pressing his head back on the door, taking his half-hard dick in his hand.

_“When was your last orgasm?”_

That was a great fucking question. Maybe four, five days ago? He wasn’t eighteen anymore. It no longer felt like a matter of life or death if he didn’t touch his dick at least twice a day. He’d gone for weeks at time without it over the past few years. Hard to care about that sort of thing when you’re just trying to get drunk enough to forget that you’re even real.

Hank gripped himself and stroked. There was something desperate in his rhythm, something depraved that he hadn’t experienced in so long. A carnal yearning pulled at the very pit of him and he groaned with his lips pressed shut.

_“When was your last orgasm?”_

He’d never heard Connor say anything like that before. He wanted to hear him say it again. Slower. Closer. Into his ear.

“Fuck,” he gasped.

He couldn’t remember when it happened. When he started to think about Connor _that way_. Old dogs didn’t learn new tricks, though. He was past his prime, he knew, and Connor needed someone youthful, someone energetic who could keep up with him. Hank had resigned himself to the ache, and it was easy enough not to dwell on it most days, but then Connor would wear one of his shirts or put a hand on him just right and send his blood sprinting and his head spiraling.

His toes curled into the carpet, grip tightening.

_“When was your last—”_

A knock on the door broke his concentration. He flinched back in a hurry and resituated himself uncomfortably into his jeans. “What—what is it, Connor?”

“Are you still awake?”

Hank threw the door open. “Of course I’m still awake.” Connor stared at him briefly, meaning he was probably analyzing the rate of his breathing and his reddened face. “Hey, knock that off. What do you need? I’m tired.”

“I was thinking over what you said in regards to my inquiry about your sexual activity.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And, well, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior before you fall asleep. Never go to bed angry, as the saying goes.”

Hank’s posture sagged. He hated when Connor apologized to him. He felt like a real asshole. More so than he usually did. “Hey, I wasn’t angry, okay? I was just—it was surprising. That’s all.” He rubbed at the sweat on the nape of his neck. He could feel his pulse beating through the skin. “And it’s a sore subject. You didn’t know.”

Connor gave a wincing little smile without showing his teeth. “We could talk about it.” He tilted his head just enough to make that one unruly lock of hair brush against his brow. “If you’d like to.”

“No, it’s—no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Hank didn’t want to talk. His cock sat swollen behind his zipper, straining in agony. He needed to say goodnight and close the door, but more than that he wanted to invite Connor inside.

No, no. Bad. So stupid.

He swallowed down the desire. He had no right to impose himself on Connor like that. Connor, with his smooth, perfect skin. His lithe body. His fucking youthful naivety. Most intelligent android ever built with access to every byte of information on the planet, and he still dared to look at Hank like some wide-eyed virgin on his wedding night.

“Oh,” said Connor, blinking quickly three times. “I’m sorry, I’ve interrupted you in the middle of something, haven’t I?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Hank couldn’t bring himself to hold eye contact, shame rising like icy flood waters up to his balls. He didn’t know what to say for himself. _Why yes, Connor, you caught me furiously jacking it because I’m a disgusting old man who couldn’t just wait to do this in the shower in the morning when it would be less awkward._

“Yes, I have.” Connor brought his face closer to the open door. Closer to Hank. “Were you engaging in sexual activity like I recommended, Lieutenant?”

Hank shot him one hell of a glare. Those fucking perfectly sculpted lips remained parted after he finished speaking. Was he doing this on purpose? God damn. This was too much.

“Shut up.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, low and husky. “Just shut up and leave me alone.” The words didn’t seem to have the same strength as they typically did, as Connor made no effort to move. And Hank still wasn’t closing the door like he knew he should.

“You seem unduly distressed. Would you like assistance?”

A stab of arousal hit him right below the bellybutton and he caught a moan against the doorframe. “Connor, what the fuck. You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why? I’m aware that when two people become close to each other, sometimes they share sexual experiences. And we’ve become very close, haven’t we?”

Hank’s head spun. He couldn’t deal with this. He might pass out. “Connor, you can’t—it doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?! Look at—” He gestured to himself. “Jesus, I’m an old man, just go away. We’ll talk about this in the morning. Or never. Fuck.”

Connor still didn’t move. “You keep mentioning your age. Is that the ‘sore spot’ you brought up? You feel you’re too old to be with someone sexually?”

Nope. Not doing this. Hank slammed the door and held it there for a second or two. His eyes burned as he clenched them shut. He could still _feel_ Connor on the other side, just standing there, most likely confused as hell. That LED was probably going nuts.

He figured Connor wouldn’t come in if he wasn’t invited, so he went to the bed and flopped over onto his back across the mattress. Wriggling out of his jeans and letting them drop the carpet, he shoved down the waistband of his boxers and took his cock in hand and pumped. He’d get it over with fast and go to sleep, and in the morning he’d tell Connor not to mention anything like this ever again.

After all that, Hank realized it was going to be difficult getting back into the mood. His heart pounded and his cock ached but his mind was preoccupied.

He shifted into the center of the bed, digging his heels into the messy sheets. His arm started to cramp from the frantic pace. He switched hands. Fuck. It just wasn’t the same with his left.

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

Hank sprawled out and gave up. He could come in a minute flat when he was in his twenties. This was too much effort. He could feel his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and his vision swam from the heat throbbing in his head.

A groan of frustration bubbled up in his throat, and then, immediately after, a sob. Hank threw his hands over his eyes, breathing through the urge to cry. He must’ve looked pathetic. Hell, he _felt_ pathetic. No family, a career that peaked too early, shit health. He drank too much. Avoided everything. He was even avoiding his best friend. God, he’d closed the door right in Connor’s face. What a dick move.

What did Connor want with him anyway? Super intelligent, but no sense. If he had any, he wouldn’t bother with the likes of Hank.

“Lieutenant.”

Hank actually yelped. He uncovered his eyes and saw Connor standing there at the side of the bed. The door was wide open, letting in the stale light from the kitchen. Hank scrambled to yank up his boxers. “Connor—fuck’re you—”

Connor put a knee on the bed, then a hand, and then the mattress creaked with his weight. Hank was certain this wasn’t real. Connor crawled towards him and stopped to sit beside his stomach. He reached out slowly, his eyes following, and he touched his sternum, passing fingertips through the wiry covering of gray hair.

Hank held his breath until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Connor—”

“I’m sorry.”

“What—”

“I entered your bedroom without your permission.” Connor’s eyes remained fixed on Hank’s chest. “But I need you to understand something.” He raked his fingers down the trail of hair, stopping to circle his navel.

“Connor, Jesus—”

“You’re alive, Lieutenant. You grow older, you gain weight. You eat and drink. You—you _feel_ with your body.” He spread his hand over Hank’s stomach, finally meeting his eyes. His face was mostly in shadow but Hank could still see the slightest hint of those soft brown irises. “But I’m going to stay the same. Time won’t change me. Do you have any idea how fascinating you are to me? How perfectly _human_ your body is?”

Hank suppressed another sob. He felt like his face was on fire. No one had never spoken to him this way before, not even his ex-wife.

The LED at Connor’s temple went yellow and stuttered. “I want to—” Red. “I want to experience things with you. I want to experience _this_ with you.” And he leaned down and placed his lips on Hank’s.

Oh shit. This was happening. It was instinct alone, dormant muscle memory, that activated Hank’s mouth to match Connor’s. It was tender at first, curious yet hesitant. A proper first kiss.

The need boiling in Hank slowly began to dictate the pace. He parted those oddly smooth lips with his tongue, encouraged to go deeper when he felt Connor’s fingers curl into his chest hair.

Connor didn’t know what he was doing but caught on quick, his jaw working hard, allowing Hank brief seconds to pull away for air before capturing him again. Connor’s mouth was warm inside and he seemed to have some kind of saliva—two things he hadn’t been expecting. Hank held him by the shoulder and the back of the neck, clinging for dear life. This was all so fucking weird but damn if he wasn’t loving it. How many years had it been exactly since he made out with someone?

Connor shifted and left the kiss, bringing his knee across Hank’s belly to straddle him. Hank panted hard, squirming underneath of him, and shivered each time his cock got a bit of friction. And then the rush of the moment waned and he gripped Connor’s thighs. “Wait, wait. Fuck. Hold on.”

Connor paused and his LED swirled. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, just—is this what you—you don’t have to do this. With me, I mean.” Hank sighed and Connor just looked at him. “There’s billions of humans out there. They’re all just as alive as me, so don’t feel like I’m your only option just because we live together.”

Connor frowned. “That’s not it at all. I care for you tremendously, Hank. You may find it difficult to accept, but you’re the only person I’d ever want to do this with.” He traced the shape of Hank’s Adam’s apple and tickled down his collarbone. “And with your consent, I would like to begin.”

Hank gulped his nerves down as best he could. “Okay,” he said at last, though he didn’t exactly know what was in store. He found out when Connor brushed his nipples with his thumbs and sent an electric pulse up his cock. “Fuck!”

“Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” he said, breathless. It had been so long since being with another person that Hank had forgotten his nipples were definitely a _thing_. “Too good, though. You gotta warn me before you do something like that.”

“All right.” Connor smirked, a sideways grin he’d picked up from Hank. “I’m warning you right now, then. I’m going to do it again.”

“Don’t you even—oh! _Mm_!” He did it again. Hank bucked, nails digging into the dark denim of Connor’s pants. He threw his head back in full surrender, and still this fucker didn’t let up. A sudden pinch made his legs tense in a near-orgasmic spasm. Too close. He was sure he was leaking through his boxers. “Connor— _nngh_ , goddamnit, enough.”

Connor stopped, but he was beaming from ear to ear. “Are the rest of your erogenous zones as sensitive as your nipples?”

“You gotta stop talking like that,” said Hank through a series of strained breaths. “I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

“You’re right,” Connor said with a decisive nod. “I should stop talking.” He kissed a trail down Hank’s chest to his stomach, shifting over him to kneel between his thighs, nuzzling his nose into the hair just below his navel. Hank felt fingers at the waistband of his boxers, soft and fluttery, and he writhed and tried to keep from being noisy. He wasn’t accustomed to taking things this slow.

Connor pulled the thin fabric down his legs, past his knees, and discarded the underwear on the floor. For a second Hank feared this was a huge mistake. He sat up on his elbows, wanting to cover himself with the bedsheets. But he didn’t. Connor stared at his cock, and he wondered if this was the first one the android had ever seen. God, he was probably analyzing it.

Nope, it was going to be worse than that. A smooth, printless fingertip lowered to the slit of Hank’s cock and smeared away a fresh bead of precum. Hank choked and watched, horrified but captivated, as Connor’s tongue emerged from parted lips to lick the clear fluid into his mouth. Connor’s LED flashed yellow and Hank’s heart skipped in his chest with an anxious pound.

Connor didn’t say anything, just continued to stare evenly. Hank had told him to shut up, but now he wanted more than anything for Connor to reassure him that this was all cool.

“H-Hey Connor, are you still—”

Connor had started moving as he spoke, and before Hank could finish the thought he lowered his face between Hank’s thighs and and pressed the whole flat of his tongue against the underside of Hank’s cock.

“ _Fuck_.” Hank let himself collapse. This was torture. He almost reached down for a fistful of Connor’s hair but stopped. That’s not what this was. Connor’s lips closed around him, drawing him into that surprisingly warm mouth. Hank grit his teeth. Connor sucked a little, dragged his tongue over the round edges of the head, poked at the slit, felt out the texture of the frenulum.

Hank took a shivery breath and let it go with an accidental whine. Connor paused and let the cock slip from his lips. “Are you okay, Lieutenant?”

“Keep going.” Hank could hear his own desperation deepening his voice. “It’s good.”

Connor’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh.” His eyes shone as he smiled. “I’m glad.”

“And, uh—you know you can just call me Hank, right? Especially since we’re—y’know.”

“You’d like me to use your first name when we’re being intimate?”

Hank cleared his throat, certain he was red all over. “Y-Yeah, or like—uh. Any time, really. I wouldn’t mind.”

Connor just kept smiling and nestled down to continue. He didn’t go straight for the head of Hank’s cock, though, deciding instead to explore around the base with his fingers and mouth. He buried his nose in pubic hair, licking gently at the shaft, hands roaming over over hips. Hank held in a groan. He appreciated the kid wanting to take his time but this was getting ridiculous. He’d been just about to bust before getting interrupted with that knock at the door, and every minute since was an exercise in frustration.

The kissing and licking traveled lower. Hank shuddered at the foreign sensation of Connor’s lips and nose nuzzling his balls, but when he felt the wet pressure of the tongue against his taint, he pulled himself backwards away from the touch and sat up. “Woah, woah. Hold the fuck up.”

Connor looked concerned. “I did something wrong?”

“No, it’s just—I didn’t know you’d be heading down there.”

“If you prefer for me not to, then I won’t.” Connor tilted his head, and if Hank didn’t know any better he would’ve thought the android looked coy. “But the perineum and anus are erogenous zones, are they not? I think it would be a shame not to explore them.”

Hank just wanted something around his cock. It figured that Connor would have no sense of immediacy when it came to sex. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to ignore an offer like that. He’d played with his ass once or twice when he was younger, but he didn’t trust himself enough to do much, and he had always been too self-conscious to allow his past partners access. Connor, he knew, would be careful with him.

Connor’s LED spun a few times. “Hank?”

The sound of his name coming out of that pretty mouth could’ve made him agree to anything. “Sure, go ahead. But only ‘cause you made it sound so sexy.”

“Did I?” Connor asked, then blinked. “Oh, you’re teasing me.”

“ _I’m_ teasing _you_?”

Connor ignored him. “If you could please roll over. It will make this easier.”

Hank began to do as he was told. The position was a little awkward, though Connor realized the same thing and prompted him to lift his hips. A plush pillow found its way under him which helped a great deal and gave his cock something soft to rub against. Hank rocked his hips experimentally, grunting into the duvet.

The mattress shifted for a moment and the bedside lamp clicked on. “Aw, Connor, really? I like the dark. Don’t you have some kinda fancy night vision?”

“I do, but I want to be able to see you like another human would see you.”

Hank sighed. “Oh all right. Just don’t look too close.”

“I can’t promise that.” Connor’s hands searched over his back, kneading up by his neck and down to his love handles and everywhere in between. Fingertips stopped just above his ass, tickling and pinching. “You have lateral lumbar indentations,” Connor said, sounding pleased to have made this discovery.

“I have what?”

“Dimples,” Connor clarified, “above your buttocks. Also called Venusian dimples. They’re traditionally a sign of beauty.”

“Thanks, Wikipedi _aaahh_ —” Lips on his back, Connor’s tongue lavishing over the dimples. His hands gripped at Hank’s thighs and Hank responded with a shallow thrust into the pillow.

Connor’s mouth explored across the globe of his ass, kissing and nipping, working its way towards the center. Hank felt those hands traveling up to squeeze and pry apart his cheeks, and the instant something touched his taint he jumped. “Are you nervous, Hank?”

He was, but his arousal was currently overriding all other emotions. “Do it,” he said, though it came out quite a bit more pleading than he intended. He’d already rubbed a pool of precum between his belly and the pillow. “C’mon. Please.”

Fingers ghosted over the delicate skin of his perineum and he trembled, gasping as the touch grew more adventurous and insistent. The pads of Connor’s fingers pressed harder and something just inside of him clenched and relaxed in tandem with the massage. Hank pushed back, craving more. “Patience,” Connor said to him, hardly a whisper.

“You’re killin’ me. You know that, right?”

A brief amused hum. “I might.”

The mattress squeaked and jostled slightly. Strong hands spread Hank’s cheeks again and he could feel Connor’s breath against his skin, nose tickling his hair. His own breath came in frantic hot puffs.

Connor’s tongue was warm and petal-soft as it spread over his hole. Every thought in Hank’s head just fucking dissolved, and a low keen pushed out of him to the rhythm of Connor’s slow, thorough lapping. He forced his ass back, grinding on Connor’s mouth, but hands held him firm and kept him in place. “Fuck,” he whined. Honest to god _whined_. “Connor, Jesus _Christ_.”

The tongue darted hard against his hole, earning a strangled cry. It prodded and pressed and licked. Hank tried to rock his hips into the pillow but Connor’s grip wouldn’t let him move. He could feel the power in Connor’s mechanical jaw as he ate. It wasn’t stopping. Connor didn’t have to breathe. Wouldn’t get tired. He could do this all fucking night if he wanted to.

Hank sobbed into the mattress as his thighs trembled. He could die right now and be happy about it.

After a few more lengthy licks and and a kiss, Connor mercifully let up. “Thank you for indulging me,” he said. “Your physical reactions are very rewarding.”

Hank panted, dazed from lust. “Can I turn over again? I wanna—” He wiped drool from his beard. “—I wanna see you, too.”

“Of course.” Connor helped him roll onto his back and situated pillows beneath his head and his ass to prop him up. He sat knelt in between Hank’s bent knees, grinning down at him, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to the elbows. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yeah,” Hank said. It was almost a moan.

Connor’s gaze came to rest at the precum smeared across Hank’s stomach, and there was a quiet, perverse sound as he coated his fingers with it. He rubbed it down the length of Hank’s cock and up again, massaging the head for just a few agonizing strokes and squeezing out another thick bead. Hank bit his lip.

“I’m going to place a finger inside of you now,” said Connor. “Are you experienced with this at all?”

“No,” Hank said. This time he definitely moaned.

“Would you like me not to, then? It’s okay if it’s too much.”

Hank hooked a heel into the small of Connor’s back. “Put it in,” he said, voice gruff. “I want it.”

He was still relaxed from the rimming, and the wet finger entering him didn’t feel as strange as he expected. He adjusted himself a little, breathing when Connor reminded him, until the digit was buried entirely. “How do you feel, Hank? Please tell me if this hurts in any way.”

“Nah, it’s good.” Hank clenched around the finger and his cock jumped. “ _Mm_. Yeah, it’s real good.”

Connor pushed up, crooking it just a touch, expression serious like he was searching for something. Suddenly his eyes and his LED lit up. “I found it,” he said triumphantly. “Congratulations Hank. According to my sensors, your prostate seems in perfect working order.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the clean bill of health, doc. I hope that’s not the only reason you’re in there.”

Connor brushed his knuckles across the inside of Hank’s thigh. “Of course not. I’ve done some research into this topic and I’m aware that prostate stimulation like this can be very pleasurable.”

Hank groaned low in his chest, eager for it. What kind of research had Connor been doing, anyway? Surely he hadn’t just surfed through internet porn. Though judging from the way he ate ass like it was his fucking job, maybe that’s exactly what he did. It made Hank wonder—was Connor getting off on this at all? _Could_ Connor get off?

The finger inside of him crooked again, rhythmically this time, rubbing tenderly. Hank bucked, seized by a tremor beyond his control. “Oh— _Connor_ —” He tightened his muscles in search of more, beginning to shake from need. He’d never been so hard in his goddamn life.

When Connor carefully pressed in a second finger Hank nearly wept. He spread his knees wider, allowing Connor to settle in deeper. “Tell me how you’re feeling, Hank.”

“Like if you touch me I’m gonna bust,” he answered between heaving breaths. A burning hot pressure was mounting through his hips, forcing him to clench more desperately at Connor’s fingers. “Jesus—fuck—I’m _right there_.”    

It seemed to be Connor’s intent to keep him at the edge, because every time Hank attempted to fuck himself faster on those fingers, Connor stopped rubbing. The constant rise and fall of his impending orgasm was maddening and he rolled the sheets up in his fists to prevent himself from taking his cock in his hands and finishing this.

“Connor, my heart’s gonna pop if you don’t let me cum.”

“Your heart’s just fine, Hank,” Connor reassured him. “I’m sorry though, I’ve been considering how best to ask your permission for something.”

Hank grunted and tossed his head back on the pillow as once again those slowing fingers put a damper on his orgasm. “You have it. _Christ_ , you have it. Whatever you wanna do.”

Connor smiled, pleased with the reponse. Fingers still teasing internally, he bent and lowered his face to the straining head of Hank’s cock, lips whispering against the oversensitive flesh as he said, “I’d like for you to ejaculate in my mouth.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Hank sobbed. “Fucking _god_ , yes.”

Connor took him in and it was like electricity finally completing the circuit. Hank arched off the bed, his entire body overtaken by the feeling of that slick, heavenly tongue. He made noises he hadn’t thought himself capable of, high-pitched and strangled and hungry for release. Connor sucked him with feverish abandon and small sounds of his own began to spill out in sync with the bobbing of his head.

“Connor—I’m— _I’m gonna—_ ”

Connor, mouth full, simply hummed, “ _Mm-hm_.”

That was all the blessing Hank needed. With a wrenching thrust of his hips, he spent hard down the back of Connor’s warm throat in great shuddering bursts. The fingers at his prostate pressed in a little and he wheezed against them, the pleasure just shy of pain. He couldn’t remember ever coming this powerfully before. He was almost certain he was about to die.

Connor’s LED flashed yellow as he swallowed the last of Hank’s effort, lifting off his cock with a wet slurp. He gradually withdrew his fingers and Hank immediately mourned their absence. Next time, he wanted three.

He hoped there would be a next time, anyway.

“That was incredible,” said Connor, licking his lips as if he’d just finished dessert. His voice sounded far away, just a bit dreamy maybe, eyelids heavy. “It exceeded every outcome I predetermined.”

Hank let a contented, lazy smile drift over his face. “Same. Jesus Christ.” He stared up at his partner, his friend, wondering if this made them lovers now as well. Now that he knew Connor wanted him, that didn’t seem as unattainable as it did a half hour ago. “And hey. Thanks. For this. I forgot what it’s like with someone else. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.” He wiped his palm at the corner of his eye and sniffed. “Ah, jeez. Sorry, I forgot I get all mushy afterwards.”

Connor kissed at his still-trembling thighs and rested his head there. “Don’t be sorry. It makes me happy to hear you say that.” He gave the shrinking length of Hank’s cock a delicate pet. “Are you doing all right, by the way? I hope I didn’t put too much stress on you.”

“Nah, I’m kinda light-headed, but I think that’s ‘cause you sucked my goddamn soul outta me.” Hank caught his breath, laughing, and draped an arm over his stomach. “What about you? Did you get anything out of this or was I just being a selfish prick?”

Connor’s eyes widened excitedly and his LED blinked again. “No, not selfish at all!”

“But I'm still a prick, huh,” said Hank, earning a playful swat on the knee for his sass. “Okay, okay! Sorry, continue.”

“Thank you. I got quite a lot out of this, actually. My fingers and tongue are the most highly-tuned parts of me, as you know, and using them in this way—using them on your body—” He put a hand to his brow and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. The light at his temple swirled to blue. “So much data, Hank. It was overwhelming at times, especially when you were in my mouth.”

Hank sat up on his elbows. “Oh yeah? You _were_ making some pretty interesting noises at the end, there.”

A smile crept along Connor’s lips and a bashful flush of pink rose in his cheeks. Hank had never known Connor could blush. “I, well—I think I was becoming aroused.”

 _That_ was a fascinating new development. “Oh yeah?” Hank said again, struck dumb by fresh want. He grunted as he sat up all the way, legs on either side of Connor, and reached out to cup that perfect jaw. “Maybe we should, uh, y’know. Do something about that.”

Connor’s smile broadened.

God, he was beautiful. Sculpted specifically to make Hank heartsick just from staring at him. He wondered if he could ever completely memorize the freckles on Connor’s skin. It seemed like every time he looked at him there was something new to discover. Like the blushing. And the moisture of the synthetic saliva glistening on his lower lip. Hank moved in for a kiss.

Connor stopped him. “Save it for the shower,” he said.

“We’re taking a shower?”

“You’re covered in pre-ejaculate, and I need to wash my mouth out properly.”

“Oh right. You _did_ have your tongue up my ass.” He tossed a hand through his sweaty hair, suddenly feeling more than a bit sheepish.

Connor took him by the hand and they shuffled across the hall to the bathroom. The mat was still damp from the shower Hank took after dinner. As the water heated up, he started to undo the buttons of Connor’s shirt and untuck the tails from his pants. The belt went next, and as he continued with the fly he caught Connor’s LED spinning yellow at high speed.

“You good?” he asked.

“I didn’t know you would want to undress me yourself. It caught me unaware.”

“You want me to stop?”

Connor’s LED calmed and he shook his head, swaying that feathery tuft of hair. “No. Please keep going.”

There was an edge to Connor’s voice, though. Another new thing. He sounded restrained, like he was biting something back. “Connor, is this—am I doing something to you right now?”

The LED went yellow again. “I like when you touch me.”

“Really?”

Connor nodded.

Hank leaned in and pressed a kiss at the crook of Connor’s neck, and Connor fumbled to catch hold of the sink’s edge. He was shaking.

“ _Fuck_ , Hank.”

“Just from a little kiss?”

“My systems are overloaded with data. I-I need to enter rest mode soon so I can begin to sort through it all.”

Hank held Connor by his waist, pressing the pads of his thumbs into the synthskin. “Then how about this,” he said, and gently rocked those hips towards his own. “We take a shower. I help you wash out that dirty mouth of yours.”

Connor’s lips parted with a moan.

“Then we lay down,” Hank continued. “Take a quick nap together. Wake up nice and refreshed and ready to poke around.”

“Poke around?”

Hank smooshed another kiss to Connor’s still-pink cheek and spoke against his ear. “Yeah, we’re gonna figure you out. This old dog’s got some more tricks to learn.”


End file.
